Ten Years Married
by sarahandmarquis
Summary: Erik and Raoul have been married to twin sisters for ten years. When they married them, they swore, in ten years, to tell them their past together. It is now time. One-Shot. COMPLETE


Author's Note:

Dear Readers,

Okay, I'll admit, I had no idea where I was going when I started this. It was just a random idea that popped into my head one day. "What if Raoul and Erik married twin sisters?" and, this one-shot was created. If there is enough interest, I might consider writing a book based on the story but, I don't know. I liked the idea enough to write a one-shot but I haven't got the writing bug to expand it yet.

Let me know what y'all think!

sarahandmarquis

.

.

"Ten years. Who would have thought?" Raoul sank into his comfortable armchair near the fire and lifted a flute of champagne to the deformed gentleman installed next to him.

"Certainly not me." He replied, lifting his flute and clinking it against Raoul's. "Are the wives nearly done? They have been in there nearly four hours."

"No, Erik, they informed me, when I knocked on their door, that they were going to look their most beautiful for us and we weren't to question."

"Ah." Erik replied before examining the champagne in his glass. "Do you think this is enough of a party? It is our ten-year wedding anniversary. Are you sure Estelle and Rachelle would not prefer more?"

"You've been married to her for ten years! You tell me." Raoul laughed and sipped from his glass before scanning the room. "We've splurged if anything. Rachel's favorite pastries, Estelle's favorite cake. The best champagne money can buy." He nodded at Erik, a thankful smile on his handsome face.

"You three always complain about my income from the Opera House but I notice you never seem to fuss over the results of it."

"Well, a Vicomte's allowance will only get a family so far." Raoul mentioned, chuckling quietly to himself. "I suppose we shouldn't fuss too much."

"No, you really should not. I might one day decide I prefer living cheaply and entertaining Estelle personally." He chuckled to himself, tipping the champagne glass back to drain it before setting it aside. Rising to his feet, he straightened his coat jacket and looked at Raoul. "How do I look?"

"As hideous as ever, my dear brother. But, Estelle will love you, gaunt bones and all." This comment only earned a humph from Erik before he adjusted his cravat. "How do I look?"

"As much a fop as ever. But, my sister-in-law still adores you for some reason." His golden eyes sparkled playfully from the well-meaning banter.

"Of course, I do. Why shouldn't I?" A red-haired beauty swept into the room, robed in red silk and hair bound back with ribbons and bits of lace.

"Because he's an arrogant dandy."

"And you aren't? Who spent two thousand francs on suits last month?"

"Estelle wasn't supposed to tell you that..."

"We are twin sisters, haven't you learned that we have no secrets." Rachelle glided towards him and patted his hand before falling into Raoul's arms for a polite kissing.

Rolling his eyes, Erik turned away from the displays of affection to stare at the door and wait for his darling, the love of his life to walk in.

Moments later, she fulfilled his wishes.

In his eyes, Estelle could do no wrong, in her appearance or actions. But, in that moment, she shown of pure perfection. Dark curls hung about a china white face. Silver eyes shimmered within deep sockets and ruby lips parted into a happy smile.

"My love." She whispered, rushing into his arms and pulling his head down to her to kiss him. Her fingers curled into the few clumps of hair he had left in his head, plump lips pressed against gaunt lines.

One hard kiss later, they parted for air. A satisfied smile covering her face, she left one arm draped around his neck and ran her fingers across sunken cheeks, avoiding the gaping black hole where his nose should have resided.

Tiny scars dotted his prominent cheekbones and she followed each with a white finger.

"I love you." She said, planting a kiss on his cheek before turning away to her sister, still kissing her husband. After ten years of living together, the odd family had settled in. To a degree, displays of affection were accepted.

The girls' honeymoons had been spent apart but, as soon as that time had finished, they had found a large house and split it, intent on never leaving the other again, even though several years had passed before their husbands adapted.

"Rachelle, Rachelle." Estelle called twice before her elder sister acknowledged her. "Rachelle, remember?"

A look of confusion passed over her sister's face before her eyes lit up.

"Yes! Raoul, Erik, you promised us, that, on our tenth anniversary you would tell us how you met and why you hated each other in the beginning." The men grimaced and attempted to dissuade their wives but the women, strong minded, remained firm, insistent on knowing.

In the end, the men complied and ushered their ladies to seats, Erik preferring his wife in his lap while Raoul pulled up another chair for his ten-year bride.

"Who shall begin?" Raoul asked Erik, glancing at the corpse-ish mess, holding his sister-in-law, without flinching.

"You. You knew her first." At the mention of another woman, both women perked up, their ten-year-long suspicions fulfilled to some degree.

"Yes, I suppose I did." He took Rachelle's hand in his and settled back to begin the tale. "When I was a child, my family had a house on the sea. There, I met a violinist daughter, and we thought we fell in love. But, when they summer was over, we parted, unlikely to each other ever again."

He gestured to Erik to pick up where he left off.

"A few years later, she moved into the Opera House. Her father had died and she had no one to care for her. The ballet corps was better than an orphanage and she had talent.

"I heard her singing one day and...I was lonely. So lonely, my dear Estelle. I'd been living in darkness for twenty years and she trusted me. I could be human for her." He stroked her cheek gently.

"I let her believe I was the Angel of Music, instead of the Phantom of the Opera. She believed, without reservation. For years, I taught her...and...and for years I loved her. I loved her dearly, and forced the management's hand, they had to let her sing." He paused, allowing Raoul to speak.

"I was there that night, and I remembered the little girl I had loved on the seashore. And she remembered me. But, there was a powerful entity that didn't want me to be around her. I hate him for it." Blue eyes narrowed in Erik's direction who just shot a golden-eyed glare in his direction.

"I wanted to save her but, I also wanted more than she was willing to give." He said, his voice catching in his throat. Erik took over to allow him a moment to gather his thoughts.

"She took him to the roof, after I had released from my home. I heard her confess complete fear of me. Yet, when he demand ed of her if she loved him, she didn't deny. She loved us both and refused to choose between us."

"I rejected her." Raoul inserted. "I wanted her whole heart, as I had had when we were children. But, when I told her to choose, she ran...and, until eleven years ago, I thought she'd run to him."

"She came to me, lied to me about him, but I knew the truth. I told her it was me or him forever. She wavered, spent three days trying to talk me out of it. I finally told her goodbye forever and...left." He lowered his head to his wife's chest and calmed himself with the sound of her heartbeat.

"I can't count how many times I almost went back. But, each time she stopped me, unknown to her. She didn't grieve long before a rich baron loved her and helped her with her career." He couldn't explain the agony ripping through his chest.

"Eleven years ago, I met you. And, I never went back." He kissed Estelle, relishing in the love still in her embrace.

"Rochelle," Raoul said, addressing his wife. "Rochelle, I confess I went to see her perform many times. And, it hurt to see her never regret losing me. A great wound to my ego." He stroked her cheek. "Do you forgive me?"

She simply nodded, pulling him into a kiss.

"Forgive, my darling Raoul."

"Estelle?" Erik inquired, parting from his wife's delicious lips long enough to speak. "Do you forgive me? I didn't act honorably to her."

"It's been years, my love, and she turned your head. I do not blame you or fault you. All is forgiven." She kissed him again before glancing at Raoul and Rachelle, completely ignoring them. Whispering into his ear, she said, "I should like to celebrate my wedding anniversary in another way. Perhaps one with a few less ...clothes?"

Her suggestive smirk tempted him and, without a word to the other's, gathered her up in his arms, whisking her away to their bedroom .


End file.
